Past Perfect rewrite
by RadioChick
Summary: Sara reveals some of her past in an effort to deal with the deep fears of repeating it. This is a rewrite of a story I wrote with my cousinTBAChikita a few years back.
1. Chapter 1

**PAST PERFECT**

* * *

**NOTE:**I own nothing here, claim no rights to anything, and am purely borrowing. This is a re-submittal of a story I wrote with my cousin a few years back. Re-written to fit in more, and because it needed doing.

Ch.1

"Warrick, I hate to ask you this again, but could you watch Linds' a while? Her cold is worse. I have to go with Brass on a run, Mom's out of town, and . . ." Catherine sighed, exasperated.

"Sure. No problem. I'm just finishing up some paperwork." Warrick set his mug down, and pushed his chair away from the break room table.

"Thanks. I really appreciate this. You were my last hope." She smiled at him appreciatively.

Sara winced at this last sentence as she sat silently across from the two of them. She wasn't sure why the statement offended her, but it did. She wasn't even an option. When it came to kids, the rest of the crew seemed to think Sara was some sort of ogre, despite the fact that she had shown on several cases her ability to deal with them just fine. Sara stood, pushed in her chair, and left the room without receiving or giving so much as a nod. Her head ached, and a new wave of nausea mixed with hunger swept over her yet again. She made her way to the locker room to retrieve her bag, pausing to look at the photo taped carefully inside the locker door. The beaming smile of a little girl stared back at her from a happier time. Sara pulled the photo down, and absentmindedly caressed the image. Her stomach lurched to protest it's emptiness.

"Hey. That your niece?"

Catherine had managed to come up from nowhere.

"No." Sara shoved the photo into her bag, and left the room and Catherine behind her.

Catherine's eyebrows shot up as her colleague rushed past. What was that all about? Catherine wasn't one to enjoy a mystery. Curiosity demanded answers. Who was the child in the photo? Sara could be a true oddball. She shook her head, and walked out to meet up with Warrick in the parking lot.

"Hey, Warrick? Does Sara have any brothers or sisters?" Catherine handed Warrick the key to her place as she spoke.

"She has a brother I think. Why don't you ask her?" He snagged the keys, and headed for his own car.

"She had a picture of a little girl in the locker room, and she hid it when I asked her about it. Kind of weird don't you think?"

"Could be anybody, Cath. I've learned with Sara that it's best just to ask her if there's something you want to know. She won't tell otherwise." Warrick winked, and got in his car.

Sara walked out of her apartment building into a light misting of rain. From the dark clouds rolling in, she could tell it would be pouring within the hour. She decided to walk anyways. It felt good to feel the dampness against her burning cheeks. The cool rain seemed to somewhat sooth the sting of her drying tears. Tomorrow would make ten years exactly. If she closed her eyes she could hear, see, and smell the jubilant little life that had been her daughter. And now…How could she ever think about going through that again? She stared straight ahead as she walked towards the common park that separated her apartment complex from the sprawling suburbs. She was quite certain she looked like a fool walking slowly in the now pouring rain. Taking a seat on a park bench, she looked skyward, letting the rain wash over her. She ran a hand over her face to wipe her soaked hair away from her eyes.

"Sara?'

"Damnit!" Sara jumped.

"Sorry." Catherine and Brass stood beneath an umbrella looking quite concerned.

"Is your crime scene in the park?" Sara knew she probably looked nuts sitting alone in a park in the pouring rain, but she really didn't care.

"'Bout a mile up the road in the burbs." Brass grinned. "What? The shower at your place broken?"

Sara gave him a small smile.

"I just needed to go for a walk. It actually feels nice." She hoped her answer would satisfy them. Brass, at least, seemed to accept it.

"Hey, Brass? I'll catch up with you in a sec, ok?" Catherine gave him a glare that told him to shove off.

"Sure. Here." He flipped his collar up tight, and handed Catherine the umbrella before walking back to his car alone.

Catherine took a seat next to Sara.

"You wanna talk about it?" Catherine held the umbrella over them both.

"Not really. I'm fine. Just pulled too many doubles this week."

"Right." Catherine wasn't buying it, but wasn't sure if she should press the matter. Sara could get on her nerves, but she didn't dislike her so much anymore. "Who was that little girl in the photo?" Catherine hoped Warrick was right about how to get information from Sara.

Sara took a few deep breaths. After several more moments of silence, Catherine feared she had broached a subject that was off limits.

"I don't want to end up as a good piece of gossip for the locker room." Sara bit her lower lip, trying to keep back tears. She hated crying alone, and certainly didn't relish the prospect of having Catherine see her break down. Grissom had been the only one she had ever cried openly in front of. Grissom. What was she going to tell him, if anything at all?

"I like to dish as well as the next gal, but I can also keep a secret." Catherine noted that Sara was shivering. She picked up her cell phone. "Hey, Jim? . . .Yeah. That'd be great." She closed it again, and tucked it back in her jacket. "You wanna grab a coffee across the street?"

Sara looked straight ahead.

"Sure." She stood, and headed towards the café with Catherine walking close behind. They got a small booth in the corner away from the windows.

"Grissom and I stopped here once after a case." Sara remembered that time warmly.

Catherine nodded. She wondered if Grissom even noticed how pale Sara seemed to have gotten over the past few months.

Sara pulled something from her jacket, and handed it to Catherine across the table. Catherine recognized the picture from the locker room.

"She's a beautiful little girl." Catherine smiled. The child had a wide grin on her face, light hair, and piercing dark eyes. If she had been a brunette, Catherine would have sworn it was a picture of Sara as a child. "Who is she?"

"My daughter." Sara's voice cracked as she spoke.

Catherine's eye shot up.

"Your daughter?" She couldn't believe it.

Catherine couldn't quite wrap her mind around the thought of Sara Sidle as anyone's mother. She had always given the impression that she didn't like kids.

"She died about ten years ago." Sara stated it matter-of-factly, but she hadn't actually spoken these words before to anyone. She wasn't sure she felt right saying them now to someone she'd only shared a few beers, and a working relationship with. She thought she'd tell Grissom some day if the time was right, but when is it ever the right time for something like that?

Catherine felt like she'd been smacked. She wasn't sure what to say for once.

"I'm so sorry, Sara. What happened?" Catherine couldn't help it as she felt tears threaten to fall.

Sara cleared her throat. She wasn't sure if it was the rain, or her emotions that caused the scratching feeling in the back of her throat.

"Lori was at childcare. She'd just turned three the day before. I was at work as usual. My friends always said they'd take care of her, but I insisted on something more structured where she could learn, and be around other kids." Sara winced at the guilt that was still so raw. She took another deep breath. "I got the call while I was working at the coroner's office." Sara shook her head.

Catherine wanted to comfort her, to say something, but she could tell Sara needed to get the story out.

"They said she was out in the play yard with all the others one minute. The next she was gone. She was taken right from under their noses." Sara's voice broke. She sobbed, wiping her face with her napkin. "They wouldn't let me near the case." She nearly hissed the words, the resentment still very evident. "All I could do was wait. Days. I waited days for anything. A ransom letter, a phone call, anything. I had to wait a week till they found her."

Catherine handed Sara a tissue from her jacket. Never in a million years would she ever have suspected this, but then, what did any of them really know about Sara? While most people loved to talk about themselves, Sara's usual line of conversation was the latest fingerprinting technique, or the case of the day.

"She was beaten up so bad." Sara covered her face with her hands. "They. . .hurt her." She couldn't bring herself to say the words. "She was in a coma for three weeks. I was with her every day. I honestly expected her to wake up every single one of those days until she passed away."

"Sara, I'm so sorry. Here." She put down money for their bill, and stood. "Let's get out of here."

Sara nodded, wiped her eyes, and followed her out. Catherine wished she had some magical words to say that could make everything better, but this was beyond her realm of experience. She could only imagine the horror of losing a child. Having almost lost Lindsey, she couldn't imagine life without her. No wonder Sara kept everyone at arms length.

"Does Grissom know?" Catherine asked.

"No. I don't know that he would know how to process this. It's not a bug, and he can't fix it."

Catherine wasn't about to argue that point. Still, she knew Grissom would want to know. Despite the wall these two seemed to have thrown up in past years, Catherine knew there was still something there between them.

"Did they ever catch who kidnapped her?"

"No. It's a cold case back in Frisco." Sara stopped outside her building. "Cat, thanks. . .for letting me spill my guts."

"No, no. I'm glad you did. I can't imagine holding that in all these years." Catherine looked around suddenly aware that she had no mode of transportation.

"You need a ride back?" Sara noticed the look.

"You sure? I could stay if you want."

"Thanks, but I'll be fine. And I'm guessing you'll need to rescue Warrick by now." Sara gave a half-hearted grin as they walked to her car.

Ch.2

Catherine took a breath before entering her home. All she wanted to do was give Lindsey a huge hug. She couldn't get the conversation she had with Sara out of her head. Sara was a mother? And, not only that, she had suffered the worst kind of loss Catherine could imagine. As she was about to enter, the door flew open causing her to jump.

"Hey, Catherine. Thought I heard your car." Warrick smiled down at her. "Tough case?"

"The worst." Catherine smiled, and looked past him at her daughter. "How was she?"

"Good! Only tried to sneak out once. You owe me!"

"Deal. Thanks again." She gave him a hug as he left, and grinned at the sight of Lindsey sending text messages from the couch.

"Hi, Hon. Sorry I'm late again." She gave her daughter a big hug, causing them both to giggle.

"What was that for?" Lindsay acted disgusted, but was happy to see her mother home.

"I just love ya, kiddo." Her voice almost caught as she winked at her daughter, and headed into the kitchen. Things had been rough for them both in recent years. Losing her father, and now a grandfather she had only rarely seen, Catherine worried what this was all doing to her daughter's life. Still, they had each other, regardless of whether they wanted to occasionally rip each other's hair out.


	2. Chapter 2

Sara entered the locker room after the night's shift, and was relieved to find it empty. She rolled her eyes at a mess someone from day shift had left behind. She set her duffle bag down on the bench in front of the long row of lockers, and started picking things up. Once again, her head ached, and she felt the nausea returning.

"Geez, Sara. I'd leave that so Grissom sees it, if I were you. Let the Day guys catch some flack for once." Nick grinned from the doorway.

"Why's everybody have to sneak up on me this week?" Sara tried to sound humorous, but her mood was too far down. Sara yawned. She hadn't slept well the past week. Sooner or later, she would need to talk to Grissom.

"Greg made a fresh pot of coffee. You see Warrick around?" Nick unlocked his locker, pulled an envelope from his bag, and jammed the bag inside before cramming it closed again.

"Nope. Haven't seen him. Is Grissom in yet?" Sara tried to stifle another yawn.

"I saw him earlier. I think Catherine was looking for him too."

Nick grinned as Sara's eyebrows shot up. He assumed it was a spot of jealousy as she made a hasty exit.

"Hey! Catherine!" Sara caught sight of Catherine leaving the break room. She was dressed nice. Sara knew that Catherine had the night off.

"Sara. Hi. Have you seen Grissom? I need to talk to him." Catherine was glad to see that Sara seemed to be doing better.

"What about?"

Catherine didn't like Sara's tone one bit.

"It's about a case, Sara. Have you seen him or not?"

"I haven't seen him." Sara sighed. She felt bad for snapping at her and acting paranoid.

"Ok then. How ya feelin'?" She softened her tone. Sara wasn't going to magically change over night simply because she'd confided in her.

"I'm fine. Just. . .a lot of stuff going on. I was going to take a few days off, but now I can't. Do I give off bad vibes or something? I mean, everybody else gets away with murder practically, and I can't even get a damn night off! I get called in at all hours, then he complains that I have no life! Oh, but Grissom's character is above reproach! He's Mr.Perfect–My poop doesn't stink-Grissom!" She stopped, and looked up at Catherine, surprised that Catherine was still standing there, and that she had just ranted openly at work. "I gotta go. I'll tell Grissom you're looking for him if I find him first." Her cheeks were now burning red.

"Heaven help him if she does!" Catherine smirked to herself. She wanted so badly for those two to have a decent conversation. She was tired of acting as the occasional referee for the love-impaired duo. Grissom was her friend, but sometimes he infuriated her with his holier-than-thou attitude.

Ch.3

Sara sat in her apartment, still fuming. She walked to her computer, and pushed the space bar to wake it up. One of these days, she mused, she'd get a cable modem. Getting a decent dial up speed in the city was a bitch at best. She signed on, and opened up her e- mail. Nothing new. She reread the letter from her cousin asking her to come home for the summer beach bum festival. The festival wasn't for another few months. She knew her mom had e-mailed her because of the date, and Lori. Sara drank down the rest of her orange juice, instantly craving the next. She thought about Catherine and Lindsey. Could Sara have held her career together as well being a single mom? She'd never know. She tried not to dwell on the visions of having long discussions with her little girl about the world, and science, and so many more topics she had dreamed of sharing with Lori when she was old enough to ask. She had hoped to get a house near the shore, and work less overtime. Now what would happen? Was her life so different now? She was still working too many hours. She lived in a small apartment in one of the busiest areas of the city. She was still not so good in the social realm. What about her life now made her think she could do this again? Grissom. Grissom was different. Ten years ago, she was alone. Now? She began sobbing yet again. Oh, she hated this about the hormones rushing through her system. Her own body turning against itself to build a new one. How could she tell him? Their relationship was one of laid back, non-committal bliss. They understood each other as much as either of them could be understood, and there was something truly loving in their relationship. Sara just wasn't positive it was actual love from Grissom's point of view. As far as she was concerned, he was the man she wanted. Reality be damned. So how would he react to being told he was going to be a father? Would he feel cornered, and angry? Would he be joyful? The fact that she had no idea how he would react frightened her. 

Sara reached in her fridge for the juice carton amidst a blur of tears. She flinched as her phone rang. Whoever it was could leave a message. At least then her machine would get some use. She sat down on the edge of her desk as the machine clicked on.

"Sara? It's Nick. Greg got tickets for what he's calling the conert of the century, and was wondering if you could fill in. I'm calling because he already went assuming you'd jump at the overtme. We can kick his ass tomorrow together. Whatta ya say?"

Sara grinned despite her mood, and picked up the receiver.

"Hey. I'm in."

The officer guarding the front of the crime scene held up the bright yellow tape for Nick and Sara to pass underneath.

"Thanks, Brad." Nick grinned at the solemn cop who simply nodded in return.

"Must be bad." Nick spoke quietly to Sara as they approached the front door of the suburban split level.

Sara knew they were all bad. As she walked through the living room , she smelled it. The distinct aroma of the blood bath. Her stomach groaned, but she held it in check, and started breathing methodically through her mouth as she had done many times before. As they turned the corner to the bedroom, the smell became overpowering.

"Man." Nick started snapping photos. The victim had his throat slashed, and was flung over the back of the couch in the den. Sara walked three feet into the room, and began to feel faint.

"Hey. You ok, Sar'? You don't look good." Nick led Sara from the room by the arm.

"I think I'm getting the flu." Sara walked the rest of the way outside of the house, sitting down on the cool concrete steps.

"You need to get some sleep. You want me to call in Grissom? I'm sure he could fill in if you're sick."

The idea of Grissom having to cover for her under the circumstances was more troublesome than her current fear of losing her lunch at a crime scene.

"No. I'm good. Just needed some fresh air. I'll take the perimeter. That ok?"

"Yeah. Sure." Nick shook his head and walked back inside.

Sara made her way across the lawn to the back side of the house, and went back to her work collecting evidence. How cliché would it be if she fainted at a crime scene, or worse, ruined evidence because she was pregnant? That was certainly not how she wanted people to find out, But how would she tell people? What would happen to her career with the Las Vegas crime lab? What would happen to Grissom when they found out he was the father? They would have to find out eventually. Catherine certainly would figure it out quick enough. Sara hadn't planned for this to happen. They had been careful, but not cautious. Things happened in the heat of the moment that she would never now claim to be sorry for. She absentmindedly rubbed her stomach. She was already three months along; almost into her second trimester. Thankful for the cool Winter weather that allowed her to wear looser clothing than usual, she unzipped her heavy parka. She wasn't truly 'showing' yet, but it made her feel better.

"Oh, Lori. I don't know if I can do this again." Sara stooped down next to a basement window. She still felt very light-headed, and covered her eyes with her hands. She felt rather than saw Grissom come closer, and stand next to her. It was what happened next that caused her heart to break. Grissom gently reached over, taking her hand in his, and spoke.

"C'mon. . .I'll take you home."

Sara's head sunk down against her chest. His words were so calming, and gentle, but his presence was painful to her still. He gingerly put an arm around Sara to help her up.

"I'm fine, Grissom. I. . ." She looked down at the ground, but didn't brush his arm away as he led her way towards his car.

The ride back to Sara's apartment was silent. She laid her head against the cool glass of the window, and closed her eyes. By the time they pulled into her complex she was asleep.

"Sara? Honey? Wake up. We're here." Grissom stooped down beside her with the car door flung wide open. Sara barely stirred. Hers was the deep sleep of exhaustion. "Ok."

Grissom looked around sheepishly then carefully slid an arm under her to ease her out of the passenger seat. He studied her face as he heaved her into his arms. She looked so tired. A pang of guilt and fear hit him hard as they made their way up to her apartment. He pulled the keys out, and fumbled for the correct one to unlock her door. The door swung open easily. He looked around quickly, and was surprised to see a half-eaten slice of pizza siting on her counter. The fact that she had left the food out for hours was not what caught his eye. It was the fact that it had pepperoni on it that shocked him. Had she been entertaining a guest? He made his way over to her bedroom, and gently laid her down on the bed. Sara's eyes fluttered open slowly. 

"What happened?"

Grissom noted that she looked scared, and was confused.

"Nick called me. He said you weren't feeling well, so I came to take you home. You fell asleep in my car. I'm so sorry, Sara." He couldn't help the words from falling from his lips. He felt he was on some level to blame for all this, and it pained him. Making his way to the small kitchen, he searched and found her coffee supplies. He opened her fridge, and was stunned by the amount of fresh food. When had this started? He was happy to see the change from the barren refrigerator he'd seen on a past visit. He started a fresh pot of coffee, and sat down on her chair across from the bed. Within minutes, he was fast asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Sara's eyes felt like lead weights as she tried to blink them open. She slowly sat up in bed. Wait. . .how did she get in bed? Suddenly very much awake, Sara surveyed her apartment. Her eyes widened at the sight of Grissom seated in her chair, head tilted awkwardly to the side, fast asleep. The memory of the previous night dawned on her, and her stomach suddenly felt very nauseous for reasons other than her pregnancy. Her brain slowly began processing the evidence. Grissom had come to the crime scene. He had taken her home. He was sitting across from her bed as she slept. He was still here. Sara eased herself out of bed. Her head had a dull throb that was steadily getting louder as she moved.

"Gris? Grissom?" She gently nudged his shoulder. She couldn't help smiling as she watched him wake up. He twitched a little, stretched, licked his lips, and smiled as his eyes fluttered open. Then he flew up out of his chair as if shocked.

"Whoa!" Sara jumped back.

"Sorry. Unfamiliar environment." Grissom's face began to take on a rather crimson hue.

"Thanks for taking me home." She wasn't sure what else to say. He had said he was sorry. Did he know abut the baby? Had Catherine told him about Lori? Or was he simply concerned for her because she was sick?

"How are you feeling?" He stood very close to her as he spoke, and his eyes showed genuine concern.

"Like I swallowed a roto-router." She looked towards the full coffee pot in her kitchen, and grinned. He must have made that last night.

"Sara." He tried to formulate his sentences just right. "Hon', we need to talk."

Sara's heart sank. Never in her entire history had anything good ever come from the phrase 'We need to talk.' Grissom noted her forlorn expression, and tried to think of what to say next to erase it.

"I want you to take some of that vacation. Two weeks, Sara. I'd like you to take it as vacation time, but if you refuse, it's administrative leave." He regretted the fact that his words sounded very much like 'supervisor' Grissom, and not Grissom, the man who loved her.

Sara paced like a caged cat. How much trouble was she in?

"Grissom, it's not going to happen again. I know it was stupid. I know that. I will take it easy in the lab for a few days"

"This isn't about last night. Not completely anyway. You're way overdue, Sara. I'm worried."

"What? That I'll screw up on a case? When have I ever compromised a case? Never! So I Was a little faint at a scene! I pulled too many doubles. Nobody else does as many as I do." Sara's voice was rising, and her head was throbbing harder. She could feel the room suddenly begin to spin, as her rug felt like it was trying to swallow her alive.

"Sara?" Grissom rushed forward just in time to catch her as she passed out. "Damnit!" He eased them both down to the floor, and cursed himself silently. He wasn't helping matters. He was making them worse. As her eyes batted open again, she looked up into Grissom's face, and the tears that she had held in from the night before let loose in a flood that frightened her. She held onto him for dear life, as he cradled her in his arms.

"Shhh. It's alright. I'm so sorry, Sara. What can I do? How can I help you?" His shirt was now damp, but he didn't care. He sighed. She has been dealing with so much, and hurting for so long, and he had been caught up in his own fears. "Sara, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"It hurts so much." She sobbed into his shirt. "I'm so tired, Grissom. I'm so damn tired."

"I know, Honey. We're going to be ok, alright? I'm not letting you go through anything else alone. Whatever it is. Please let me help you." He held on tight. However hard it would be, however much it hurt, he was hers. He wouldn't let fear come between them any longer.

Ch.4

Grissom eased his cell phone out of his coat pocket, and flipped it open.

"Catherine? Yeah. I need you to take charge of shift tonight."

Catherine looked at her phone as if she expected a springing plastic snake to pop out. So much for two full days off.

"You feeling ok?" She had never known Grissom to take time off other than for his operation.

"I've got something I need to take care of."

Catherine heard sobbing in the background.

"How is she? Is she ok?" Catherine prayed the answer was yes.

Grissom was a bit reluctant to answer. He wondered how much Catherine knew that he didn't.

"I hope so." He sighed. "Thanks, Cath." He hung up, and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

"Grissom, I'm sorry." Sara hid her head against him, unable to look him in the eyes yet.

"Shhh. It's ok. You don't need to be sorry. We do need to talk about this though." He reached down, and gently raised her chin so she was looking at him.

"I know. It's just so many things went wrong all at once, and I thought I could take it." She took a deep breath, and the guilt of thinking of their child as something wrong caused her to cry silently again. "I just can't anymore."

She was still trying to defend herself, and that bothered Grissom. He didn't want her to feel like she was on trial.

"Sara, I'm not blaming you, but we need to get you some help for this. I promise I'll be there for you, but you have to work with me."

"You think I'm an alcoholic?" Sara's mouth nearly dropped open at the accusation. "Grissom, I didn't get drunk. This isn't a hangover!" She was suddenly angry again.

Sara rose slowly, and sat down on the end of her bed.

"Sara, I just need to know why you're beating yourself up like this? I want to help fix this. Please let me help you." He looked at her with pleading eyes. He had never wanted anyone to see his point of view more in his entire life.

"Grissom. . ." Sara got up, and went to her nightstand to retrieve a photo from the drawer. The photo was bent and showed signs of wear around the edges. She handed him the photo, and sat back down. "Catherine knows."

Grissom examined the picture of the little girl carefully. He was confused. His mind was full of questions, but no answers seemed obvious.

"Was she a case of yours?"

"No, Grissom, she _was _mine. Her name is Lori. She would have been thirteen this past week." Sara tried to read his expression. Her words seemed to take several minutes to fully sink in. His breathing became shallow, and he kneaded the bridge of his nose furiously.

"Sara, I'm not sure what to say." He got up, walked over to the side of the bed, and knelt down beside her, taking her in his arms. "I'm so sorry, Honey."

Grissom felt like he'd just placed the final piece in a jigsaw puzzle. How could he not know about this? He had met her when she was in college for the first time. He had befriended her in San Francisco during a case involving bugs where he had become completely impressed with her deductive skills. They had even shared drinks, but it had never occurred to him to inquire about children. Grissom realized his lack of people skills had failed him once again.

"She was such a great kid. She was already starting to read, and could write her name, and mine." Sara trailed off.

Grissom had no point of reference for how to deal with this. He had been the bearer of bad news many times to families, but he was never the one to give them comfort. He did the only thing he knew how. He held her in his arms, gently rocking them both. He wondered who the father had been, but asking such a question now was not an option. It didn't really matter to him now. All he wanted was to protect her from ever feeling such pain again. In truth, he wasn't sure how anyone could do that.

"Sara, I'm so sorry. I'm not sure how to do this."

Sara frowned. What did he mean?

"Grissom, I don't expect you to fix everything." She had to tell him everything. "I don't how to tell you this." She was terrified, but regardless of his reaction, good or bad, he had to know.

Grissom winced at the words. Was he too late? His chest tightened at the thought. Was she going to push him away after he'd finally accepted he could do this? He couldn't accept that. Not now.

"I want to try to be there for you. I don't want to lose you, and I can't stand seeing you do this alone."

Sara couldn't believe his words. After so long and so much pain she wanted to just let go, and believe in this, but he didn't know about the baby.

"Grissom, I'm pregnant. Three months." There was no need to avoid it any longer.

Grissom took in a deep breath, and turned around.

"Grissom. Please say something."

When he turned around his face was beaming. His eyes were brimming with tears as he raised a hand to gently caress her cheek.

"Have you had an ultrasound yet? I'd like to go with you if you'll allow it."

Sara was thrown off by the surprising question.

"I'm due for one this coming week. I'd love you to come with me." She felt the heavy weight she'd been carrying around lifting off her shoulders, and she hugged him to her.

"You were afraid I wouldn't be happy." He held onto her. She had not only been living with a fear that he would reject both her and the baby, she was also dealing with the very real fears of being a mother again after what had happened to her daughter ten years ago. 

"You've not been home once since coming to Vegas, have you?" He couldn't believe he'd never noted this before.

"No." Sara felt the shame of the fact hit home. "I couldn't go back. Not yet. I send flowers for Lori's grave each year on her birthday and at Christmas."

"Maybe it's time you did. Just for a week or two."

Sara exhaled. She was tired again.

"To hell with the labs, Sara! You have to rest, and I think maybe it's time to go home. Just for a while." Grissom was suddenly more adamant than Sara had seen him in years. He stood up straight. He was serious, and Sara wasn't about to make light of the matter. Passion was not something Grissom displayed freely. To witness it was rare. For it to be because of her was more important than any apology.

"I'll go." She grabbed his hand, and squeezed it tight.

"I could go with you to the cemetery if you'd like?" He spoke softly, unsure if he had made an improper offer.

"I think I'd better go alone. I know this sounds crazy, but she didn't know you. I want some time alone there."

Grissom nodded, and leaned in to kiss Sara's forehead. It was sweet and unexpected, and it was exactly the gesture she needed.

"Get some rest. Your two weeks starts tonight. I'll cover for you. Do you need anything from the labs?"

"No. I've got all I need." She smiled weakly at him as he headed for the door. "Grissom?"

"Yes?" He turned half in the hall, half in her apartment.

"I love you." She smiled. He made the sign for I love you too with his hands before closing the door.


End file.
